


On the Same Wavelength

by Janatee



Series: Fitzsimmons [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janatee/pseuds/Janatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Normally, the gesture wouldn’t have made her this nervous. 'But nothing is really normal anymore now, is it?' she thought. She took a deep breath, and let it out. Ruminating wouldn’t do either of them much good. So it was time to do what Jemma did best: analyze the data and solve the problem.”</p><p>Fitz buys Jemma a soundwave necklace, but doesn’t tell her what it says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Necklace

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic comes straight from awkwardspiritanimals on tumblr and was originally posted on star-spangled-souffle.tumblr.com

Jemma stared hard at the necklace, spinning its tiny disks between her fingers. She glanced over at the box it came in, at the messy handwriting that simply read “For Jemma.”

Every time she looked at the tiny blue beads, her heart lurched. Oh, Fitz. She’d nearly forgotten about his confession. At the time, there’d been more pressing matters. Mainly the window blasting open and Fitz nearly killing himself. (And the water rushing into the small metal box. And dragging Fitz upward and upward, watching his lifeless figure as they rose through impossibly deep water…. _No. No, that is not healthy, Jemma. Stop it._ )

She had been so worried about his recovery that she hadn’t stopped to think about what he’d said. Not until he gave her this. Did he expect something from her? Did he think she felt the same? Oh dear, what if she hadn’t really known him at all? How could she, if she’d missed something this huge?

_(“What’s it say?” she asked when Fitz handed it to her._

_“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself,” he’d replied._

That didn’t make things any easier. )

Normally, the gesture wouldn’t have made her this nervous. _But nothing is really normal anymore now, is it?_ she thought.She took a deep breath, and let it out. Ruminating wouldn’t do either of them much good. So it was time to do what Jemma did best: analyze the data and solve the problem.

 _______________________________________________

Jemma slammed the laptop shut in frustration. After an incredibly embarrassing recording session (Triplett investigated after he heard her murmured romantic phrases) none of the soundwaves she’d obtained had even come close to matching those from the necklace. She had tried different intonations, had analyzed the patterns backwards and forwards, and had gotten absolutely nowhere.

“Of course,” she said to the computer, “You can’t fit a _single_ wave pattern. Fitz could have given me _something_ , but no, this, just out of the blue. How am I supposed to know how to figure this out without him? No voice recordings, nothing to work with, I don’t know what I’m dealing with here. Why can’t he just tell me? Why can’t we just do it together?”

 


	2. The Breakthrough

The tiny microphone clicked on, and the spikes on the readout pulsed up and down.

“Check check,” Jemma said into the device. She pressed a few buttons and waited. “Check check,” she heard back. She watched the digitized sound wave flash by again on the readout. _Good._

Her voice patterns weren’t close enough to make a match, but she knew where to get some that would.

 _______________________________________________

“Fitz?” Jemma said.

“Yeah?” Fitz replied absentmindedly.

“Don’t you love these new monitors?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool,” he said, tightening a bolt on his latest project. She tried again.

“I mean, I _really_ love them,” she said, then pushed further, “I love the new keyboards too.”

He put his wrench down and sighed.

“I can see what you’re doing, Jemma, and it’s not going to work. You have to piece it together on your own. It’s a _challenge_. I’m not just going to blurt out ‘love’ on command so you can analyze the signal.”

He noticed the look on her face immediately.

“What?” he asked. She couldn’t keep herself from smiling.

“Oh, hell! I’m an idiot!” he cried, and she giggled. “Okay, okay, you’re very clever. That was your free hint; I’m not saying any more.”

She rolled her eyes, “Of course not.”

“It might not even help you,” he said, “What makes you so sure it says ‘love,’” He looked like he could be hurt, but she couldn’t tell. _Since when could she not tell?_

“I-uh-well you did…say…I have to start somewhere!”

 _______________________________________________

Back in her bunk, she plugged the recorder into the computer and let her mind go on autopilot. She took the sound waves from the portion she wanted, and attacked them with everything she had. She scaled the amplitudes up and down, played with different frequencies,  compared the known sample with every section of the necklace, and every section of the necklace reversed. Nothing. The word “love” simply wasn’t there.

Tackling the rest of the recording seemed as good an idea as any, so she barreled on. Isolated every word, every syllable, went through the entire process again. She would not let this beat her.

Several hours (and several cups of tea) later, she’d found something to go on. ‘You’re.’ Just ‘you’re.’ Nothing else came close to matching. But now she had a beginning.

 _______________________________________________

Jemma and Fitz sat in comfortable-ish silence, each working on separate ends of the lab. She could tell Fitz wanted to say something. Usually, she would have asked what was going on, but today she let him speak up on his own.

“Hey, Jemma,” he said, “I was thinking of modifying the dwarves to measure blood pressure, start our own line of lie detectors like the ones at the base.”

“Fitz-”

“Come on, Jemma! Please?”

“Fine.”

Fitz smiled, and nearly skipped towards the dwarves’ carrying case.

“You’re the best, Jemma,” he said, bending to click the case open.

She had been fiddling with the recorder purely out of habit, but she saw it. It was just for a second, but it was definitely there. The first and third peaks.  

“You’re __ best _____”

_Oh._

“You’re my best friend.”

She spun around and just stared at him. He saw the look on her face and smirked.

“About time,” he said.

“Oh, Fitz!” she cried, and ran to hug him, “I’m so stupid; of course!”

Relief flooded through her. _Of course, there was nothing to worry about. It’s Fitz; how could she ever have worried?_

He just hugged her back.

“Whatever else my feelings are,” he said after a long time, “Your are first, foremost, and forever my best friend. I would never give that up.”

Jemma choked out a happy sob.

“Neither would I.”

 


	3. Epilogue

Skye wandered into the lab.

“Fitz,” Skye said, “Why are you wearing Simmons’ necklace?”

“It’s not just a necklace,” Simmons said, walking in. Skye noticed that Simmons was wearing her own, in a slightly different shade of blue.

“It’s a physical representation of a sound wave,” she continued, sitting down, “It’s rather clever, actually.”

“Of course, without knowing the scale for frequency, the message is meaningless,” added Fitz.

“Not to mention the amplitudes are equally undefined,” Jemma said.

“You’re right. But the sentimental premise-”

“-is actually quite nice,” Simmons finished.

“I can’t believe you guys,” Skye said, “Matching necklaces, matching science gibberish. You’re basically companions for life.”

“Yes, we are,” they said in unison. Skye just rolled her eyes.

 

 


End file.
